


kiss and make up

by hyunchans



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Crying, Happy Ending, M/M, Mentions of Anxiety, Oblivious Minho, Panic Attack, Secret Crush, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, description of panic attack, mentioned/very brief appearance of minchan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:47:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25873081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyunchans/pseuds/hyunchans
Summary: jisung has had a crush on his best friend and roommate minho for what feels like forever. one night when jisung comes home to their shared apartment one day to find a stranger on the couch with their tongue down his throat, jisung is forced to come to the realization that his feelings for minho are much more than just a crush.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 5
Kudos: 201
Collections: Jilix Ficfest





	kiss and make up

**Author's Note:**

> happy jisung week! this is completing prompt #16 for the [jisung week part of the jilix fic fest!](https://twitter.com/jilixficfest) please check out the twitter, and collection to check out the authors works that we have come together to produce for our amazing 00 line.
> 
> i have made it clear where the panic attack happens so if you wish to skip over that you can easily - this is indicated by a [ at the beginning of the passage and ] signaling the end. 
> 
> reminder to double check the tag section for triggers and content that will be included in this fic. if they don't sound like the type of content for you then you don't have to feel obliged to read this - the tags and warnings are there for your comfort and safety.
> 
> *flatmate is an alternate term to roommate

_“true friends are never apart, maybe in distance but never in heart”_

unknown

**❥**

_Friendship._

Perhaps one of the most fawned over and desired aspects of the human condition alongside _love_. While it was relatively easy to come by, the extent to which the relationship deepened or meant to both parties were harder to come by. Whether or not it lasted or fizzled out after a few months or years was hard to determine, and the fact that one must make connections to experience this was baffling to Jisung at times. Sometimes the fear of losing what he already has terrifies him, because he thinks he has already struck gold with those in his life. When Jisung thought about what or who in his life embodied the title of a ‘true friend’ the one person that always came to mind first was Minho.

The two had known each other for eight years and had seen their fair share of each other’s good and ugly. Their friendship started out so simply – one-night Jisung had been wandering the streets in hopes of clearing his head when he stopped to watch a dance cover group perform a popular song. Jisung found himself staying for the whole hour that they were performing covers on the street and his eyes followed one dancer in particular. The dancer was well built, and his execution of the difficult moves put Jisung into a steady trance. Jisung swore the dancer would glance at him every so often, but he brushed it off and decided to think nothing more of it.

When he returned home later that evening, Jisung followed the groups social media page and came across an image where all the dancer’s individual profiles were tagged. He pressed the photo, thinking the boy who he thought was amazing would have his account set to private. But when he clicked the linked account on the photo, he was surprised to be sent to an account with over one hundred thousand followers and three hundred posts. Jisung gawked at his screen even further when after a mere few minutes of hitting the follow button that a notification popped up saying the account had requested to follow him back – Jisung was on private after all. He was quick to accept the request, even quicker to open that private message that followed. From that night onwards Jisung and Minho had met up at café and become close friends over their shared passions of dance and music.

Eight years later and Minho was now a successful dance instructor and owned part of a dance company, and Jisung was a musician by night, barista by day. The apartment they shared was small but comfortable – there were two bedrooms and a very small study that Jisung used as a makeshift studio.

It was his safe place.

The study was just behind the lounge area, which meant that no matter what you had to walk through the lounge to get to it. It was five in the evening when Jisung clocked off from work and got the lift up to their home in the apartment complex. It was five minutes later when he was fumbling for his key card and heard the faint rumble of music playing inside the apartment.

_Hmm, maybe Minho has friends over?_

The door made its signature shrilling tone, signaling that the key card had indeed unlocked it and Jisung hesitantly pulled his shoes off in the entryway. He doesn’t really fancy introducing himself to someone new – the awkwardness of it had really been playing on his mind lately and he definitely wanted to avoid it as much as possible. He was drained from work and the last thing he wanted to do was put most of the effort into breaking the ice with whoever Minho had over.

Jisung padded further into the apartment, shrugged off the long parka he had over the type of his work clothes, and continued on to the kitchen. He grabbed himself a bottle of water from the fridge and the remains of the cheesecake he’d ordered on UberEATS the night before and quietly began to head for his study, dreading every step that took him closer to the doorway into the lounge. The music was loud, but not enough to cause noise complaints and Jisung had to admit it was a really good song that was playing.

Minho always had an outstanding taste in music.

When Jisung finally turns the corner into the living room, he stops dead in his tracks. There on the couch is Minho - but also there on the couch, is someone he doesn’t recognise.

With their tongue right down his best friend’s throat.

Jisung’s water bottle drops to the floor, the cap popping off and water exploding all over the floor. His cheesecake box shortly follows. The sound echoes over the loud music in the room and the pair pull apart on the couch – the stranger’s cheeks flushing red while a faint smirk pulls at his lips. Minho stares at Jisung, mouth wide open as Jisung stumbles to pick up the bottle and box from the floor. He keeps his eyes focused on the floor, partly because he doesn’t even want to look at Minho right now but also because of the burning sensation in his chest, and the tears threatening to fall from his eyes.

“Sorry, didn’t realise.” Jisung mutters, scurrying back to the kitchen to find something to wipe the water away with. He can hear Minho talking to the stranger with a hushed voice, and the stranger giggles at whatever Minho had said to him. Jisung returns with a cloth and begins to wipe up the water when Minho speaks to him.

“Hey ‘Sung it's fine, me and Chan can clean it up.”

 _Chan._ So that’s the name of the mysterious stranger.

Jisung decides he doesn’t like _Chan_ when he catches a glance of his hand snaking around Minho’s thigh, not caring one single bit about Jisung being in the room. He feels like he is going to be sick. He can’t look Minho in the eyes, can’t bear to look at Chan’s hand that he knew was trailing up Minho’s shirt by the moan that accidentally escapes Minho’s lips.

Minho’s hand comes flying up to his mouth, both embarrassed and ashamed he’d let that happen – however, Jisung didn’t know that. Jisung had fled the room, ignoring the cheesecake box on the floor by the couch and slammed his bedroom door shut behind him, leaving Minho with an uncomfortable ache pulling at his heart, a strange hollowness blooming.

_What the fuck just happened?_

**❥**

[“What the _fuck_ is happening _,”_ Jisung swears as he collapses against the wall next to his bed. He couldn’t gather the energy to move to his bed as his body felt so weak, and his limbs turned to jelly. The thoughts started racing through his head the second his bottom connected with the floor, and it felt as though his back was collapsing into the wall, that he was melting away.

He thought that Minho had the decency not to do something like that in their shared home but then he cursed himself for even thinking that because it’s not like it should even matter – they’re best friends. Jisung’s jealousy had taken the best of him and he couldn’t even place where or why that jealousy existed. Jisung’s forearms began to feel cold, as though all the blood had been emptied from his body and replaced with a disgusting prickle of ice freezing underneath his skin.

His heart began to race, and his chest began to heave as thought after thought raced into his mind, the only result of every single one that something really bad was going to happen. The overwhelming feeling of dread came in waves, and Jisung could barely move. He heard a faded thump against his bedroom door and a raised voice.

“Jisung!? Are you in there? I’m so sorry about before,” Minho was saying through the door, though Jisung could barely make any of it out. Thank god he’d remembered to lock the door when he shut it. It would be the icing on the cake if Minho saw him like this, the anxiety that was flooding his body told him it would surely be the end of their friendship. Seeing Jisung this much of a mess over a kiss between his best friend and a stranger. He must have started to sob loudly because Minho’s knocks on the door were becoming more and more persistent.

“’Sung?! Everything alright?” He was worried. Worried over him who was mad at him over a kiss with someone other than himself. Jisung gasped as the thought flooded his vision. 

_Maybe we’re both as bad as each other._

As the waves started to pull back, Jisung was able to stand shakily. His eyes were swollen, and his body was weak, but at least he was able to breathe properly again. Whether it was the adrenaline of the anger he felt, Jisung had a sudden urge to brace himself at the door before swiftly unlocking it and swinging it wide open.] Minho was standing there, arms awkwardly at his side, eyes searching Jisung’s body.

“Why are you so upset?” Minho asks, his lip trembling. Jisung takes it all in, the sight before him. He could see that Chan was no longer in the living room, either he left or was now in Minho’s bedroom… the thought made him want to vomit.

“W-Why am I so upset?” Jisung stutters. Minho flinches, and his eyes squint as he tries to put two and two together. Minho can’t quite piece the puzzles together at all, and it makes Jisung sink further.

“I’m asking you that because frankly ‘Sung I have no fucking clue and I’m so worried… the noises you were making… it sounded like you were _dying_ ,” Minho said. He reached out to take hold of Jisung’s wrist but he retreats from Minho’s touch. His eyes began to burn once more.

“Bad day at work, p-pissed I dropped my cheesecake.” Jisung still stutters but other than that, there is no emotion to his voice, its empty, cold and harsh.

Everything that Jisung isn’t. Everything he _shouldn’t_ be.

“Really? Having a panic attack over that?” Minho keeps his voice low, a failed attempt at trying to be as least condescending as possible.

Jisung huffs, “is that a problem? Who are you to judge or determine what is okay to have a panic attack over?” Minho doesn’t notice but Jisung’s fingers begin to shake once more.

Minho takes a step back, hold his arms across his chest; defensive, guarded, and furious.

Everything that Minho is not, that he _shouldn’t_ be.

“Um, I’m not judging anything. Is that what you think of me right now? After I came to check you were okay?"

Jisung never bickered with Minho, but somehow this didn’t feel like bickering, it felt like something much worse; something Jisung didn’t want to be doing with him.

Anyone but Minho.

“I think you’d much rather be with your boyfriend than standing here dealing with the upset flatmate,” Jisung bites back, the adrenaline too much for him to think clearly about the effect his words might have on Minho.

Minho scoffs. “One, he’s not my boyfriend. Two, if it’s _such_ a problem to have someone over I guess I’ll just go to everyone else’s place instead of being allowed to have someone over in my own home.”

Minho pauses for a moment.

“Third, thanks for really putting it in perspective ‘Sung. Flatmate instead of friend? Really makes our relationship clearer now after so many years huh?”

Jisung’s eyes start to water, “How dare you.”

“How dare I? How dare _you_ for saying it in the first place. I care about you Jisung but jeez, way to hurt someone who was trying to make sure you weren’t hurting _yourself_.” Minho turns on his heels, grabbing his phone from its place on the couch.

“W-Where are you going?” Jisung asks as he follows him through the apartment and pauses when Minho pulls on his shoes.

“Chan’s. Let you cool off.” Jisung trembles as Minho opens the door, glaring back at him.

“Take care,” he bites out.

When the door shuts, Jisung crumbles.

**❥**

The door makes its signature tone, making Jisung’s ears twitch. Jisung pauses, the soju bottle stopping at his lips. The door opens and Minho enters quietly, feet padding on the floor as he made his way through the kitchen and into the lounge.

“Finally,” Jisung whispers, swiftly but not carefully slamming the bottle on the coffee table and runs towards Minho. He was so drunk that he could see three versions of him, hoping that he was running towards the right one. Minho opens his arms, already knowing that Jisung was about to through himself into them. He envelopes Jisung warmly, wraps his arms around the younger and does not want to let go. He can feel the heat from Jisung’s body burn through his clothes and can smell the alcohol on his breath. Jisung’s hands rest on his lower back and he can feel the younger sinking into him, and Minho has to stop himself from letting it last any longer.

“Sung are you drunk?” Minho asks as he lets go of him.

The sight of him says yes but Jisung still manages to deny it despite the many empty soju bottles on the coffee table. His cheeks were rosy, and his eyes were glazed over, and more so than anything – the _smell_ was a dead giveaway. That and the way Jisung was clearly not trying to slur his words.

“It’s okay if you are but I’d rather talk to you sober,” Minho says. Jisung pouts and tries to hug Minho again, and somehow, he can’t manage to refuse. So, he lets Jisung back into his arms, rubs circles into his back as he feels Jisung’s chest rise and fall against his own.

“We can talk now; we can do more than talk.” Jisung says, and Minho tries to ignore the feeling of lips dancing on his neck, on Jisung’s hands that were trying to snake their way up his back. Minho stilled, pressing his hands against Jisung's chest, pushing him away from the embrace.

Jisung looked defeated, his eyes as wide as a doe’s and his lip quivering relentlessly. He trips over his own feet as he goes to drain the rest of his bottle on the coffee table. Minho walks over, and gently rests his hands on Jisung’s shoulders, steering him away from the coffee table.

“Talk tomorrow. However, right now you should go to bed,” Minho states. Jisung attempts to glue his feet to the ground, get enough traction that Minho couldn’t budge him any further.

“C’mon Sung I promise,” Minho whispers, and Jisung leans back at the sound of his voice.

“Sure,” Jisung slurs, letting Minho guide him to his bedroom. Minho doesn’t turn the light on, instead he pulls back his duvet and ushers him inside the warmth. Jisung crawls underneath the duvet, and tugs up the blanket Minho laid over the top. He makes himself comfortable and can hear Minho shut the door gently behind him.

Minho couldn’t ignore the sight of Jisung’s room. Even in the darkness, he could make out the empty alcohol bottles and clothes strewn all over the floor. He could see his guitar lying by the closet next to a bunch of notebooks and pencils scattered in every direction. Minho blames himself. If he hadn’t of left, then maybe Jisung wouldn’t have drank himself into such a state.

He walks to the kitchen and begins to boil the kettle to make a cup of instant coffee. He didn’t feel comfortable sleeping just yet, he wanted to check on Jisung later just in case. He took his coffee into the lounge, and turned on the tv, lowering it to a comfortable volume he knew wouldn’t disturb Jisung if he was in a light sleep already. It was some television show on Netflix Jisung had paused – some teenage girl who has a vampire as a boyfriend who also has a smoking hot brother that’s a little bit of a bad boy. After a few episodes, Minho is entranced in the show, already guessing who Jisung’s favourite character was.

 _Jisung_.

Minho shoots up from the couch, setting his empty coffee mug on the table and pausing the tv. He patters down to Jisung’s door and opens it just a smidge and can see Jisung had now turned to face the door, eyes closed, and in somewhat of a comfortable looking sleep. Minho sighed with relief and checked the time on his phone.

**4:37am**

He didn’t even realise it had been that long, the coffee obviously taking effect on his senses. Although he cannot sleep just yet, he still feels like he needs to be doing something more, something to help Jisung see how much he truly appreciates him and their friendship. Minho places a water bottle next to Jisung’s bed on the side table, followed by a row of pain relief tablets – he chose Jisung’s favourite.

He stood in the door frame, not really wanting to stay for too long in case Jisung woke up and caught him admiring him in his sleep.

Minho was more than lucky to have Jisung in his life, and he just wishes that stupid argument had never happened.

**❥**

When Jisung wakes up he has a splitting headache and wants more than anything to retreat further under the covers in shame. When he finally pops his head out from underneath the duvet, he spies a water bottle on his side table. He glares at it, trying to pinpoint in his hazy memory when he got one from the fridge last night. It dawns on him that he didn’t and he figured he must be forgetting something… _Minho._

Minho had come home, and Jisung had basically thrown himself at him. He cringed as he drank the water and tried to remember everything he did and said when Minho had finally returned. He set the water down and they brushed against something else on the table – painkillers he noticed at a longer glance.

He popped two of the pills, his favourite, and slowly but surely let his feet flatten out on the floor and straighten himself up out of the bed. He had a building sense of embarrassment beating down on himself – the fact that he had acted like _that_ the second Minho returned. Jisung realised last night that it must be more than a crush on Minho and that he thinks he has truly fucked it up this time – especially if Minho was disgusted by the sudden onslaught of unwanted affection.

Jisung scrambles around for his phone, eventually finding it on the kitchen bench of all the places it could be and opens UberEATS for what feels like the twelfth time this week. He goes to his favourite café, orders himself and Minho a pair of iced americanos, while scrolling to find an easy pancake recipe.

Nothing says _“I’m sorry”_ like breakfast in bed, Jisung thinks.

Within twenty minutes, Jisung had selected a recipe and the coffee had arrived. The first sip of the americano was heavenly – it was so crisp, not too sweet and utterly refreshing. He sipped at the coffee while he tried to make the pancakes that were supposed to take less than fifteen minutes to make.

Jisung shortly finds out that pancakes are harder than they look – his batter was clumpy and certainly didn’t taste right. Half an hour had passed and Minho’s americano was sitting untouched on the counter, condensation rolling down the plastic. Jisung threw the spatula into the sink, and braced himself over it with his arms on either side of it. What little strength he had regained in them shook as he felt himself begin to slip into his thoughts, and his tears started to fall before he could stop them. A pair of arms wrapped around his waist, tugging him back to the present.

“It’s okay, you’re okay, everything’s okay.” Jisung eases up as Minho back hugs him, hands wrapped around each other, and holding him close. Jisung closes his eyes, regains his breathing, taking in the feeling of Minho’s arms secure around him.

“Pancakes not turn out the way you hoped?” Minho asks, and Jisung can sense the smile on his lips.

Tender, soft, and caring; everything Minho was and that Jisung admired.

“I’ve felt like banging my head against the wall with these stupid pancakes,” Jisung sniffed.

“Well I’m glad you didn’t, you shouldn’t hurt yourself.” Minho rubbed his stomach over his t-shirt and was instantly comforted.

“I’m sorry for what I said ‘Sung,” Minho said against his ear. Jisung didn’t want to move from his place over the sink, too comfortable and content in Minho’s arms from behind.

Jisung sighed with relief, feeling the bubbling anxiety in his chest begin to ease back down.

“I was so scared that I lost you. I shouldn’t have been so impulsive; I should have known what my feelings _meant,_ and not snapped like that, _”_ Jisung chokes, reminded of his behavior. Minho tightens his arms quickly then slowly releases them, sighing at his words.

“No don’t blame yourself. I’m scared too Sung. I feel like I’m falling, losing all my control. I feel like I’m saying the same old things, but I want to hear what you’re feeling.” Minho shakes his head as he speaks directly through Jisung, he could imagine the look on his face so vividly.

“I realise that all I’ve ever asked of you until now is for you to be my friend. But now I’m asking you if you want this to be something more.”

Jisung cannot move, unable to fathom what was unfolding before him.

“This love we have is important and I don’t want to lose you this way, especially if we don’t try or keep our feelings hidden.” Minho loosens his grip, and Jisung turns himself around, his lower back now leaning against the sink.

“Love?”

“Love. I love you as a person, as my best friend. But Jisung, I think we both know especially after how we acted that this –“ Minho points between them, “ _this_ is not just friendship.”

Jisung’s eyes begin to water as he takes in the weight of Minho’s words. He’d had this _crush_ on him for so long and struggled with this the whole night thinking he had lost him. He never would have thought that Minho would have felt the same way, potentially felt _more._

“Jisung, can I kiss you?”

He nods, an exasperated yes leaving his lips.

One of Minho’s hands braces himself on the edge of the sink, the other hand coming up to cup Jisung’s sublimely rounded cheek. He leans in to Jisung’s mouth, his hair flopping down over his forehead and blocking his eyes from Jisung’s vision. When his lips meet Jisung’s all his cares in the world dissolve, nothing else matters more than marking the expanse of his lips with his own. Jisung leans into the kiss, his own hands finding purchase around the nape of Minho’s neck. He deepens the kiss, let’s his tongue gently part Minho’s thick bottom lip from the top, darting his tongue in and over Minho’s hot muscle. Minho’s grip tightens against the sink, needing to find something more stable to balance against. When they part, they were both heaving, having never kissed another with such want and such passion.

Minho looked into Jisung’s eyes, at the way they sparkled and how he could see his own reflection in them – the widest smile painted across his lips.

“You’re already one of the most precious friends I have. 'Sung you’re my best friend, promise we will never ever fight like that again?”

Jisung nods, “Pinky swear."

They giggle as they link their pinkie fingers, locking it with a press against each other’s thumb to seal it.

Jisung was feeling daring, especially with Minho pressed against him and especially because of such a revelation.

“Perhaps, could we upgrade from best friend to boyfriend?”

Minho grins.

He nips at Jisung’s lips, flailing his arms around his body, hoisting him off the floor in a Cinderella-esque twirl.

“You can be my best friend _and_ my boyfriend. Nobody else but you,” Minho says.

Jisung smiles, stroking his thumb against Minho’s cheek.

“I like the sound of that.”

_**❥** _

_“rare as is true love, true friendship is rarer.”_

Jean de la fontaine

**Author's Note:**

> if you enjoyed this, don't hesitate to leave kudos or comments, it really helps us writers out by getting validation and/or pointers or even just a comment saying you liked it ♡
> 
> \+ bonus points if you can spot the song lyrics incorporated into the dialogue.
> 
> links to my socials:  
> [1\. twitter](https://twitter.com/hyvnchns) if anyone would like to follow for updates, and sneak peeks on wips and such and be friendos  
> [2\. cc](https://curiouscat.qa/hyvnchns) if you prefer anonymity! i also take requests :)


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